


Two Kings

by aurorakborah



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Homophobic Slurs, Humor, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, underaged drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:44:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurorakborah/pseuds/aurorakborah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story where a clean freak with anxiety problems, meets a pierced and tattooed douche with a cat. It's the typical College AU, everything you can expect from a JeanMarco fic. But maybe.. Just maybe it will capture your attention. And there's a small possibility that these two dweebs might fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot Soup & Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco doesn't watch where he is going, and Jean strips in a parking lot.

It was the first day of school. If you can consider hell to be school, then it was the first day of the school year. I had just arrived at my first class, a coffee from Starbucks in hand, as always. Most of the period was spent with Professor Pixis explaining how the rest of the year would be. Typical first day orientation, but overall the professor seemed like a decent one. He didn’t care too much about whether we were late or not, and his teaching style was great so far. It had lots of talk and little homework.

The rest of the day dragged on just like that. I had math an hour or so after lunch, and then I went back to my little apartment. I typically liked things to be rather organized, and everything figured out before I make my move. Which is exactly what I did before coming to Zhingashina University. I already had a rather decent paying job at a counseling office as an assistant to one of their best psychologists. As for the apartment I had spent a good chunk of my high school years saving up to afford the move. I couldn’t bear the idea of sharing a room with someone. Talk about gross.

Moving up here had been a big jump from the small town I lived in before, but I was more than prepared for it. There are some things (I would soon find) that I had definitely not been prepared for.

 

 

 I had spent a good part of my time after class driving around trying to find a good café around town to blow some spare time. Lucky for me I discovered a cute little hole-in-the-wall, which would later become my favorite place to reminisce (and eat!). Even better for me, a Barnes & Nobles was located smack-dab across the street from what was known as _Belle Lune Café._ The area became my favorite little corner and I spent most of my time in college on the square. Located within walking distance from my house, I might add.

The day I discovered my little Café I also found one of my best friends. I can still remember the day that I fatefully dumped my hot soup all over him, but hot soup would be an understatement. As I recall the proper term would be _scorching_. I had just picked up my soup from the counter, and heard the ring from the little bell on the doorframe (due to the wind blowing it wide open). At the time I thought nothing of it, but a mere five seconds later I contemplated it very much so.

The second I turned around I tripped over a cat. _A cat,_ I shit you not. Right behind that small kitten was a big distraught man. I just caught a glance of a worried face and two-toned hair before I fell right into his chest. In the end I was on the ground, and in quite a panicked-state. I apologized profusely and stared up at the person, with wide eyes. Not going to lie, he looked absolutely furious. He threw out curses left and right, but mostly, “Fuck that’s fucking hot!”

I curled up into a little ball of anxiety right there on the floor not quite sure what to do. “Someone close that door!” he yelled loudly. Then I realized that a little cat, an **adorable** cat, had crawled onto my lap. _Shit._ I thought to myself. It started to lick the soup off of the floor, and my clothing. Not sure what to do I just sat there staring at the cat. I wanted to maybe pick it up and hand it to the previously desperate man, but then I considered the allergy factor and decided to let it be.

It didn’t take long until two large hands came down to pick up the little munchkin, and I came back to reality. Grabbing the spoon and bowl I stood up to formally apologize for the unexpected shower. “Hey I am so sorry, I didn’t see you there, and the cat just came out of nowhere, and… and... and...” I mumbled to him. Trying to find a good excuse for the chunks of chicken, noodles, and carrots on his shirt. No matter what I said though, I couldn’t shake that disgruntled look off of his face.

“Listen just look where you’re going next time okay?” he said suddenly. Then he quickly turned around and walked away.

“Hey wait!” I said louder than expected, grabbing his shirt and turning him around. “At least let me get you a change of clothes out of my car man,” I insisted.

“If you really feel the need to sure,” he grumbled. Obviously still frustrated with me.

“My names Marco, by the way,” I said, now looking down to him. I hadn’t realized it while on the ground but I was just a little taller than him. He glanced up at me, angrily, but after some intense staring I managed to get his name.

“I’m Jean,” he said more quietly than I had expected. I fished my keys out of my pocket and pressed the unlock button. My car in the distance let off a little _click._

“Nice to meet you, Jean,” I stated.

“Yeah that’s a great way to fucking meet someone,” I heard him say under his breath.

Ignoring the comment I walked a little faster and went to the trunk of my car. I’m glad I didn’t end up going to the gym, because I don’t think he would’ve enjoyed my sweaty clothes. I pulled out a black t-shirt from my trunk and handed it to him. “ I hope it’s not too big for you,” I muttered. To be honest I wasn’t planning on giving him my shorts, but after glancing his way I decided he probably needed the pants too. “Here, if you want,” I said, shoving the bundle of cloth toward him.

His only reply was, “Thanks.” He set his kitten down in my trunk, and then he started to strip right in the middle of the Miller Plaza parking lot. I stood there with my mouth gaping open, staring at his body red from the heat of the soup. _Wow, that’s hot._ I looked at him in awe, but soon realized I had been looking too long and turned away blushing.

“Do you normally dress in parking lots?” I giggled. He looked up with a little smile on his face that made his lip ring flicker in the light.

“No, I just like to strip for people that manage to soak my clothes,” he said, “but at least you managed to stop Princess.” _Wait what._ The boy with a lip ring, gauged ears, and tons of tattoos named his cat _**Princess**_? I tried to hold back my laugh, but I just couldn’t do it. After only a few seconds I broke down into a snickering state.

“What?” he said obviously embarrassed, you could tell because a light pink flushed on his face.

“You named your cat Princess,” I simply stated.

“No it was my mom’s idea,” he gushed, rubbing he back of his head. “Anyways I’m sure you’ll want these back sometime soon, so I’ll give you my number and you can text me when you want them back, I guess.”

“Okay Jean,” I smirked, “or should I call you _Prince?_ ” He looked at me with an un-amused face and recited his number to me. I entered it into my phone, holding back a giggle as I put his name in as Prince, and we went our separate ways. After of course he grabbed his cute little Princess.

“See you another time,” he smiled. _Yeah, see you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but it's just a beginning. Feedback is appreciated . :)


	2. Let's Jam Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco & Jean like screaming music loudly. And they are both dorks.

It only took about 5 minutes to get back to my house, and I sat down rather happy about the whole bout. Even though I had drenched, and burned the skin of the person I seemed eager to be friends with maybe it could develop into a friendship. He seemed like an interesting guy, and the more I thought about him the more I wanted to know. My brain was tingling with curiosity for the new individual in my life, and I desperately clutched my phone holding back the urge to text him 20 minutes after the whole spiel.

I decided to wait a few days, the normal thing to do I suppose. Not wanting to seem desperate for a new friend, although I admit it would be nice to have someone to talk to, I postponed my desire to text him for a couple days. It took me a good 10 minutes to type out the message, which is pretty pathetic. For some reason it was really irking me. In the end all I ended up typing was, “Hey, it’s Marco.”

Wow my creativity was _overflowing_ with that one. I obviously should write a novel. Stressing out about the situation, I ended up sitting on the couch for a good 15-20 minutes waiting for the reply. The response didn’t come in 20 minutes though, and feeling particularly discouraged I gave up and turned to the newest book I had bought from Barnes  & Nobles.

It was considered quite a classic, _The Book Thief,_ that is.

My hunger for reading was very vast. I had a sea of books in my house, and boy did I love to swim. Something about the way you can experience the character’s emotions, pains, and live their lives through the writing just got to me. With each book I myself went through another journey, and I couldn’t imagine something better than that. Jumping into my handheld time machine I managed to give away 3 hours of my life, absorbed in the story of Liesel Meminger and her wonderful love for books.

 

In all honesty I probably wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for the buzz of my phone against my leg, and the sounds of my furious starving stomach. Finishing the last page of the chapter I decided it was a great time to stop, and sat the book down on my miniature mountain next to my couch. Subconsciously shaking with nerve, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw **1 unread message.**

Only thinking the worst I tapped on the message and sighed with relief when I saw that it was from him. It would’ve been traumatizing and disheartening had it been from my very _text savvy_ mother.

 

**To: Prince- Hey, it’s Marco.**

**From: Jean- oh hey, you probably want your shirt and shit back right?**

**To: Prince- Well yeah, it’s too bad I can’t get my soup back too, I mean it looked pretty tasty before I managed to dump it all over you. :(** **  
**

I hoped he had a sense of humor, and nervously tapped send. Well maybe I shouldn’t have sent that I mean the guy was already fed up from me dumping soup all over him that day, and maybe that was a mistake oh gosh… Worrying won’t help me if I’ve already sent it, I kept telling myself. Once again my growling stomach caused me to move, and I shuffled towards the kitchen. Moving slowly towards my simple kitchen with reader’s headache.

Yeah I could be really into reading but cooking was another matter that I just couldn’t seem to latch onto. Ever since I was a kid I dreaded the call of help from my mom from the kitchen. If it was absolutely necessary hell yeah I could cook, but to me it seemed like quite a waste of time. You could spend like 5 minutes making a bowl of cereal verses spending 30 minutes cooking chicken, green beans, and rice. You can say I’m not healthy, and you’d be right.

I tried to make up for my lack of good eating habits by going to the gym, but the past few weeks I’ve been putting it off. Making up excuses as to why I can’t be healthy, and even more so now that Jean had some of my workout clothes. Great excuse right? In the end I ended up throwing a squiggly noodle brick in a pot, and making some 1st class ramen.

            10 or so minutes later I found myself once again absorbed in The Office. Eating my ramen and watching as Jim pulled another intricate-as-hell prank on Dwight. Then the buzz of my phone pulled me from the show. I quickly ran over to the counter that I had left it on earlier, and happily typed in my password.

**From: Prince- Hahah well it didn’t feel as good as it looked, that’s for sure. Anywhere you want to meet up to get your stuff?**

**To: Prince- You can just come drop it off at my apartment if that’s convenient for you. I get out of class at 11, and don’t have to work tomorrow. :)** **  
**

The weird thing was he seemed to respond right away to the next text after taking hours to reply to the first few.

 

**From: Prince- Sounds good, it’s around lunch-time so we can go grab some lunch if that’s okay with you. Where’s your apartment?**

**To: Prince- Sure that sounds great! It’s just down the street from the café we met at. In Sina Hollow.**

**From: Prince- Kay, see you at noon.**

I didn’t reply to that last message. He probably thought it was weird how I texted back so fast. Maybe I’ll text him back after I finish this episode. Yeah, that sounds good.

 

 

I woke up with a start realizing that with all the fuss last night, I had ended up sleeping through my alarm. _That’s fucking great._ As it turns out I spent last night trying to finish season 2 of the office,  & fell asleep on my couch. Lucky for me class didn’t start till 9:45, and it was only 9:20. I still better hurry my math teacher wasn’t quite as lenient as Professor Pixis. Time did matter to her.

Rushing around I grabbed my backpack and a granola bar and practically sprinted out the door. Somehow I managed to get to class right in the nick of time, and the teacher let me off with a begrudging stare as I rushed through the doors. I went to my seat, and found most of my class I spent worrying about going to lunch with Jean.  Hopefully he doesn’t think I’m annoying or weird, and maybe I’ll actually make some friends besides Christa and Ymir. It would be nice to have some guy company every once and awhile.

At exactly 11 I jumped out of my seat and headed for the doors, the lecture was over, and I was excited. The drive home seemed like an hour long, and right when I walked through the door of my apartment I decided it would be a good idea to clean before he came over. I had my sloppy mountain of books next to my couch to tidy up, and a crusty half-eaten ramen bowl on the coffee table beside it. About 30 minutes later I had managed to make my small apartment spotless & thought it might be a good idea to hop in the shower.

Literally right as I got out of the shower I heard knocking on the door, _great._ I managed to somewhat dry off my body, and to throw a towel over myself before appearing in the doorframe. I profusely apologized for my current state and ushering him in the apartment. “I’m going to go get dressed I’ll be right back,” I said, “sorry.” I wonder how many times I have said that since he came through the door.

Shutting the door to my bedroom I threw my towel in my dirty clothesbasket, and rushed frantically to find some clothing to wear. I ended up tossing on a Coldplay t-shirt and some jeans. I brushed the wet mop of hair on my head, and opened my door to find Jean going through my books. He looked up like he had just found some horrible secret, or something.

“Oh hey, here’s your stuff,” he said while handing me the freshly washed and surprisingly folded clothes.

“Thanks,” I grinned, “So where do you want to go to lunch?” Hopefully he’ll pick somewhere I liked. Hopefully not Wendy’s, I hate that place.

“Oh, wherever you feel like going,” he replied. Damn it. I hate being in this situation.

“Well, I don’t really care, so feel free to choose,” I retorted. This kind of thing sucks. The never-ending paradox of two people who just _don’t care_ about where they go out to eat.

“Well we can just go to that café that you personally trashed Monday,” he laughed.

“Okay that sounds good, is your car outside?” I questioned.

“I don’t have a car, I walked here from my dorm on campus,” he simply stated. He walked all the way here? Wow, that’s at least a half an hour walk…

“You should’ve just asked me to pick you up!” I said. It wasn’t fair for him to put in so much effort just to get my clothes back to me.

“Hahah I’ll make sure to next time,” he said, and for some reason I was taken aback by the words _next time._ Does this mean we are friends? Fuck _yes._

I ushered him out of the door, and grabbed my keys and wallet. We hopped in my 1976 rusting Z, and we were on our way. Before I knew it “Just a Girl” by No Doubt was blasting on my stereo. Talk about embarrassing… I quickly hit the power button and killed the music, ensuing an awkward silence. “Hey man, No Doubt is the shit feel free to jam out,” I heard from the seat quite close to mine.

Then a tattooed hand reached up and hit the power button. Next to me I found a usually intimidating man screaming the words “ _cause I’m just a girl”._ I couldn’t help but to break out in laughter, and flash a big hearty smile at the guy. Right then joining him in our obnoxious singing, I decided that I had found my new best friend. I also decided to slam on my breaks after being distracted from the extremely geeky singing, which just sparked another round of giggles.

“Watch the road!” he half yelled half sang at me.

 

It didn’t take long until we arrived at Belle Lune Café. All jammed out and about to lose our voices we headed into the shop. I stood at the counter, but Jean pushed me away playfully and said, “I got this.” He attempted to hold back a smile and ordered his food, but right when I was about to say what I wanted he blurted out, “and this fellow, he wants chicken noodle soup. I know this because I spent a good 20 minutes with it down my shirt.” The cashier simply stood there and put the order in. Not amused by Jean’s shit, while we both stood there giggling.

“Your order number is 302, do you want the receipt?” he said blatantly. Geez talk about a mood killer. We thanked him and went to sit down.

“So you never did tell me exactly why you had a cat with you, in a café?” I quickly questioned him. For the past 3 days I had been puzzled over what reason he could’ve possibly had a cat around here.

He scratched the back of his head nervously explaining, “Well, I had just arrived here and decided to get some food for myself and Princess.” I giggled when he said that. After giving me a nice death stare he continued, “ anyways I got out of the car, and without realizing it apparently so did my cat, and when I opened the door Princess ran through the door, and I kind of panicked.” Awh that is _adorable._

“I bet you were really excited when I tripped over her,” I said rather sarcastically.

He laughed a whole-hearted laugh, and it was nice. For a few seconds I studied his face, looking at all of his little features. I noticed that he was nervously turning his lip ring in his mouth. My observing was interrupted by **Order 302 is ready.** We both quickly jumped up to get our food.

It was a nice lunch, and I learned a lot about Jean. He lived in the Sina Dorm, and had a roommate Connie. He didn’t like Connie too much because he always had his personal food vacuum come over (also known as Sasha). He moved here from a little town in the middle of nowhere, and had a mom who was a bit too loving and attached for his taste. Like me, he had a father who raised him on all of the random 80’s, 90’s and 2000’s music he could find. Jean was a great guy as far as I could tell, and I was really excited about making a new friend.

After an hour or two of chatting I took Jean back to his dorm, but I sure as hell didn’t miss the opportunity to loudly and obnoxiously sing RHCP with him on the way there. “See you soon!” I shouted as he hopped out of my car and jogged towards his apartment.

“Au Revoir!” he yelled back. What was that, French? Probably. The ride home seemed lonely, and I already missed my friend. I tried to listen to the music, but it just made it worse. Maybe I’ll see him at campus tomorrow. I hope I do.

Arriving home I climbed the inconvenient stairs, and before I could start on the homework I had acquired that morning I conked out on my couch. It seemed to be the favorite sleep spot of my college years.

I woke up to a text on my phone from the infamous Prince.

 

            **From: Prince- Had fun today. Let’s chill again soon. Night Freckles.**

            So my nickname was freckles. I guess I can live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came a bit sooner than expected, but hey here it is!  
> I couldn't stop writing it, and I ended up finishing it. I hope you guys enjoy. It's only a little bit longer than the first one, but it's not like there won't be more right?  
> P.S.- my birthday is tomorrow and I'm turning 15, woo!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I have ever written, I would love to hear some feedback. Maybe some suggestions. Thank you guys for reading it, it means a lot!


End file.
